


Music Lesson

by LittleUggie



Series: Pack of Strays [2]
Category: Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Animal Ears, M/M, Muteness, Will's Dogs are People
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 11:19:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12703953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleUggie/pseuds/LittleUggie
Summary: Winston goes to his first harpsichord lesson.





	Music Lesson

**Author's Note:**

> So this AU is a thing that is still happening. I'm going to do a collection of shorts from the pack members pov. Also, if I ever get around to it, you might eventually get some illustrations.

The Palace is how Winston thinks of Hannibal Lecter’s house. It is certainly fancy enough to be one. The first time Will brought him here, he could only stare around in shock, terrified to touch anything. He thinks Will must feel the same way from the way he puts his hands in his pockets.

The harpsichord is in what Hannibal calls the drawing room. It looks like the pictures of grand pianos that Winston has seen, though somewhat smaller. The doctor explains in great detail about the differences in the two instruments, and the history of the harpsichord. Winston pays close attention, peering into the case to see the strings and plucking mechanism. 

The young boy likes that the older lupine doesn’t talk down to him, or worse treat him like he can’t hear. The supervisors at the group home he had to stay at before he could live with the pack would do that often, as if not speaking meant his intelligence was compromised. The other boys ignored him as if he was a piece of furniture, which wasn’t too bad. Winston knows gaining their attention could have been much worse. 

He watches Hannibal’s fingers dance deftly across the keyboard. The black and white keys reversed from the one he had learned on the piano. The sound is very different, as promised. To Winston’s ears it sounds as if it is speaking directly to him. For all that it is an older instrument, it seems more youthful sounding than the long, lingering notes of the piano. 

When the man finishes his introduction, he rises from the bench, to allow Winston a turn. He doesn’t instruct him to do anything specific yet, just to get a feel for the instrument. Reverently, he picks out a scale, having to concentrate on the backwards keys. The singing of the strings under his fingertips sends a frisson of excitement through him. He absorbs himself in the progression of arpeggios, the difference in the sound he has grown used to. He is unaware of the amount of time passing, until a hand is laid gently on his shoulder. He startles, looking up into Will’s face. 

He meets his eyes by accident, and immediately drops them, still half expecting to be punished, or at least scolded, for challenging the alpha. But Will doesn’t even mention it. He never does. The man is strange like that. 

Winston twists on the bench, Hannibal is standing behind him on his other side, looking as pleased as the boy has ever seen him. Winston wants to thank him, but unsurprisingly, he is unable to make the words come. He stands, a bit awkwardly, and reaches out to touch the man’s arm. It’s the best he can do. But the doctor seems to understand, a wider smile flickering across his face. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Will asks. Winston nods. 

“I can already tell you are going to be a talented pupil. You learn remarkably fast and have a true love for the craft.” Hannibal says. The boy ducks his head, the praise burning right through him.

“Would you two care for a snack before you journey back to Wolf Trap? I made scones this morning.” Hannibal offers. 

Will looks at Winston, as if his opinion matters. He shrugs, no point in turning down food. 

“Sure.” Will says. 

Hannibal’s kitchen is as intimidating as the rest of his house. Winston takes in the strange instruments and utensils as the man collects the food. It is all so meticulously placed. Very different than the kitchen at home, which is something of a confused hodgepodge with only the barest hint of any system of organization. Winston wonders, not for the first time, what this rich alpha lupine sees in the strange little pack. Then he catches the look he is giving Will, and it makes sense. Alphas mate with other alphas. Maybe he is just as strange as Will and the rest of them in his own way. 

They go into the dining room to eat, a room with what appears to be a garden on the wall. Jackson would like that. Winston is presented with a teacup of some fruity smelling tea and a lemon scone dripping with icing on a matching plate. It may be the best thing he has ever eaten, and he has to make himself eat slowly. The food isn’t going anywhere, and there will be another meal that day. He has to keep reminding himself. Hannibal watches his small bites with something like understanding, though Winston can’t imagine the doctor has ever known what it’s like to go hungry. 

The adults have coffee with their scones, discussing schedules and mutual acquaintances. It’s the sort of conversations all adults have over the heads of children. It isn’t particularly interesting, so Winston doesn’t mind. His thoughts drift back to the harpsichord, thinking about how some of the songs he learned on the piano will translate over. He comes to, when he realizes the two older lupines are staring at him with a sort of shocked delight. He blinks at them, then realizes there was a sudden cutting off of sound. Had-had he been humming?

Now that attention has been drawn to it, he can’t find the noise again. Unable to help himself, he slips off his chair and underneath the bright white table cloth. It is safer under here, they can’t look at him. He pulls his legs up, tail wrapped tightly around his feet so he is as small as he can make himself. 

“Winston?” It’s Will, he sounds worried. Winston presses his face to his knees. 

“I think it best we let him be for now, Will.” Hannibal’s calm, accented voice is soothing. “Here.” There is the sound of something being set on the floor. He peeks out of the circle of his arms. Hannibal has set his tea and a plate with another scone under the table for him. 

“He will come out when he is ready.” He sounds certain, and he attempts to draw Will back into conversation. The other alpha is obviously still concerned, but he allows Hannibal to divert him. 

Winston lets the noise wash over him, until he can uncoil his body. He picks up the tea, which is only lukewarm now and takes a sip. His throat feels raw, though he isn’t sure why. He eats the other scone, licking the icing off first since no one could see him. Once he has finished the treat, he feels better, and quietly crawls out from under the table, taking the dishes with him. 

There is a pause in the adults conversation, but otherwise, they don’t draw attention to his reappearance, which he is grateful for. A few minutes later, Will finishes his coffee and they get up to leave. 

“I shall see you next week, Winston.” Hannibal says, smiling at him again. Winston nods, eyes downcast in embarrassment. Hannibal studies him for a moment. 

“Will may I have a word in private with WInston before you go?” 

Will looks at him in hesitation. “If he’s okay with it. I’ll be in the car, alright?” He waits for Winston to nod again, and heads out.

Hannibal kneels so they are closer to the same height. Winston is actually a few inches taller when the lupine is crouched down, which seems wrong to then boy. 

“You feel safer when no one can see you.” It’s not a question so Winston doesn’t respond. 

“It is perfectly alright for you to do so here, Winston. I want you to feel safe. But there will be times when you cannot hide, and I want you to be prepared for that.” 

Winston shifts from foot to foot, unsure what the doctor wants from him. He knows that Hannibal is a therapist. He’d had to see a couple of those already before he could live with the pack, but somehow Hannibal doesn’t seem as condescending or invasive as any of them. 

“I could not speak for a long time when I was a child, either.” That makes Winston look up. Hannibal isn’t looking at him, but seems caught in a long ago memory. “I was a little older than you. I stayed at an orphanage after my family died. It was not until after my uncle found me that I began to speak again.” He turns his attention back to Winston then. “I am not going to push you. I am certain you will speak in your own time. But I will not lie to you either, life will be more difficult until you find your voice. I am sure you already know.” 

He waits for Winston to nod in acknowledgement. His gaze seems to go straight through the boy. “If you find yourself humming again, try not to hide. Because the only person you are running from is yourself.” 

He stands then, and opens the door in clear dismissal. “Till next time, Winston.” 

Will watches him get into the car and buckle up. “You okay?”

Winston looks at him, and for the first time he can feel the words in the back of his throat. He can’t push them forward, but he knows they are there. He nods. Will flashes him a crooked grin, and they head back to Wolf Trap.


End file.
